


Nightmare's Gang of Wranglers

by yastaghr



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Crosstale | XTale (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Dreamtale (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Dusttale (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Errortale (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Farmtale (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Horrortale (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Underswap (Undertale), Bad Sanses - Freeform, Character Development, Cowboys & Cowgirls, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Dissociation, Dreamtale Sans (Undertale), Dusttale Sans (Undertale), Dusttale Sans/Underswap Sans (Undertale), Errorink - Freeform, Established Relationship, Flirting, Fontcest, Horrorcest - Freeform, Horrortale Papyrus (Undertale), Horrortale Sans (Undertale), Horses, Ink, Killer Sans (Undertale) - Freeform, KillerCreamMare - Freeform, M/M, Multi, Sanscest - Freeform, Underswap Sans (Undertale), dustberry - Freeform, errink - Freeform, star sanses, wranglers AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:20:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24341953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yastaghr/pseuds/yastaghr
Summary: The Star Sanses and the Bad Sanses become closer. Set in a Wranglers (Cowboy) AU. Please help me summary.
Relationships: Dust Sans/ Underswap Sans, Error Sans/ Ink Sans, Horrortale Sans/ Horrortale Papyrus, Nightmare Sans/ Cross Sans/ Dream Sans/ Killer Sans, Papyrus/Sans (Undertale), Sans/Sans (Undertale)
Comments: 65
Kudos: 144
Collections: Glitchy Boi is Best Boi





	1. Setup

Not many outfitters can be described as ruthless, but that was the perfect word for Nightmare’s boys. His gang of wranglers had driven other companies out of business and seen farms go under in a blaze of light. They owned this mountain range. In most cases, quite literally. More than 100,000 acres in this range belonged to one or another of the gang. The rest was national park or national forest land, and therefore free range, at least with the proper permits. They had them. Whether or not they had earned them was up for debate. 

With such a huge land tract available you would think there would be dozens or even hundreds of groups that roamed them. Nightmare’s gang was the only one. Occasionally a private group would venture into their territory. Never more than once. They simply didn’t allow that. Since there was only one you might reasonably assume there were a gaggle of horses. That would be wrong. This group ran less than 20 in a single train, and that included the pack mules. There were a further dozen on reserve, resting and growing strong on a rich, vast pasture. The skeleton simply known as Farmer made sure of it. 

Today they were loading up the trailers for another pack trip. This one would be gone for two weeks. The gang rarely took trips this long, but the client had money and right now they were a bit… cash strapped. Nightmare had promised the Horror brothers that they would never go hungry again, and he kept his word. 

That meant sometimes taking on clients that weren’t his usual handpicked bunch. Nightmare could be one of the most selective outfitters in the region. He couldn’t stand dealing with city folks who had never seen, let alone been on, a horse. No, his requirements were stringent. Unfortunately even that had earned him enough of a reputation to attract his worst fear. This client couldn’t have come at a worse time. Nightmare needed the cash to feed his boys. He couldn’t afford to be selective right now. But why did it have to be him?

Nightmare surveyed the parking lot. It was 5 am and his boys were loading up the trailers for the long haul to the trailhead. Old Classic, the trailer Nightmare had been running for ages, was being loaded up with the first five horses. Nightmare had already personally loaded up his bay pony, Razz. The gelding wasn’t his first choice, but Grape and Wine had finally grown too old for these trips. They were enjoying a well-earned retirement on the ranch, so Razz it was, despite his tendency to rush headlong into areas of uneven footing. He always seemed to come out alright, but Nightmare was an old horseman. He knew that every horse was an accident waiting to happen. He just hoped it wouldn’t be this time.

Killer’s little hellbeast was already loaded up, too. Nightmare couldn’t see what his right hand skeleton saw in the 1/2 thoroughbred bay gelding. Slim was an absolute nightmare to ride, heh heh. He required constant attention or else he would try to run a race. Nevermind that he wasn’t on the racetrack anymore. He always wanted to race. But Killer managed him effortlessly, so all Nightmare could do about him was complain.

Cross was just tying off the next two geldings. Honey, a dun gelding, was his personal horse. He was the tallest horse in the bunch at 17.3 hands. Conversely, Berry, an appaloosa, was the shortest pony at 12.3 hands. He was a guest pony, the one they usually saddled child or elderly monsters on. He was steady as a rock.

The final horse waiting to load up on Old Classic was Ghost, Dust’s grey mare. She was a sweetheart who Nightmare really should have retired already. But he’d yet to find another horse that could put up with Dust’s constant talking to his… brother… so for now Ghost had to stay. 

Error, Nightmare’s newest hire, was loading up the last three true horses onto Big Red. His own black mare, Shadow, was nearly matched in colour by Classy, the second guest horse. Shadow spooked at everything. Gates, leaves, other horses, her own footsteps; everything, that is, except Error’s constant glitches, which was why she was still around. Classy was a real lady, dainty in her footing and wily as a fox. She’d sneak treats off of any bleeding heart she could. Nightmare liked to use her as a test. If the guest could manage her then they could come back. Rustle was the final horse on the trip, a pretty paint horse that was easy going and gentle as could be. 

Blood and Sugar, the Horror brothers, were loading up their two mules. Pumpkin was a chestnut mare, bulky and imposing until you got to know her. Yes she could weather a hurricane and come out the other side fine, but she loved to snuggle and be groomed. Shanks, on the other hand, was a blood bay gelding that only a monster like Sugar could love. He bit, he kicked, and he was an absolute bear to the other horses. Except for Pumpkin, that is. Those two were just as much in love as their owners, Nightmare was sure. It was a little sickening how sweet that set could be, but that wasn’t exactly a problem, now, was it?

The final trailer held the pack mules and all their gear. Crown and Regal were a matched set of palominos who Nightmare had… inherited… from another outfitter. He didn’t know the stories behind their names. They certainly didn’t seem to fit the playful attitude of those two mules. 

* * *

Much like Boss, when Nightmare wanted everyone’s attention, he had it. His boys paused in what they were doing and looked at him. He sighed and pulled out his lucky bandanna, a teal paisley print that he’d found after the apple incident, and wiped his neck with it. 

“Well, boys, here we are again. You know the mission as well as I do. Keep the whole pack trip from going to shit. Whether or not the client enjoys it is the name of the game. We’ve done this a million times, but this time’s gonna be different. This isn’t a set of our usual clients. These are city slickers. I know you hate it as much as I do, but we didn’t really have a choice. I’m not about to let my boys go hungry. So I had to take them on,” Nightmare huffed, “Now for the part you didn’t already know. There’s just three of them coming with us. I don’t know about two of them, and the third… heh. You’ve heard about the third from me enough times. It’s my twin, Dream.”

That little bombshell had about the reaction he was expecting. Cross looked grim, like he had found out about his brother’s death all over again. Killer’s smile grew and his hand reached for his knife. Dust snarled, his eyes flicking to where he thought his “brother” probably was. Blood and Sugar stepped closer together, and Blood reached for his pack (which Nightmare knew held his butcher knife). Error just seemed confused. He hadn’t had the pleasure of hearing about Nightmare’s past yet.

“wasn’t there anyone else you could have gotten? even reaper’s family would have been better than this, and he makes us bring so much coffee!” Blood complained. 

Nightmare shut him up with a look. “Do you really think I would have made this choice if there were any other options? It was this or sell off land, and that would have taken way too long. It had to be this,” He looked around at everyone, meeting their eye sockets with his singular one. “Now, I’m going to ask you to do your best job to not scare him. We need to put up with his group for two weeks. It’d be better for us if he didn’t want to turn back around halfway through. Besides, then he’d want a refund, and I already spent the money, so you’d better earn it. Is that understood?”

Everyone saluted with varying styles and degrees of formality. Nightmare grins. He loves it when they do that. It makes him feel like a prince rather than just a wrangler.

“Okay then. Carry on.”

And just like that, everyone went back to working like the smooth operation they were.

* * *

Dream’s hands gripped the steering wheel of his trusty old Jeep so tight that, if he’d been a human, his knuckles would have been white. As it was, the joints protested. They were used to typing away at a computer all day, not commanding a car through miles and miles of unpaved roads. They really wanted to just go home, but Dream wasn’t about to do that. No, he had committed to this and he was going to see it through. Besides, his friends were so looking forward to this trip. It would hurt to disappoint them.

Speaking of his friends, Dream quickly checked up on them. Ink was sitting in the passenger seat, chattering away about something or other. The artist was such a chatterbox. It was ridiculous. Frequently Dream found himself wanting to gag Ink with his own scarf. He never did, though. Maybe it was because Ink was his oldest friend, the first person who had taken a chance on him when he moved to the city. Maybe it was the fear that even that wouldn’t shut Ink up. Instead, Dream periodically had to just… take a break from his talkative friend. Ink was very forgiving. Or, more accurately, he was very forgetful. Dream was pretty sure that was why they were still friends. Dream was willing to put up with all his faults.

He had his good points, too. Ink was the definition of creative. He was always seeing the world in a unique light, and hanging around him made Dream constantly have to stretch and grow his mind and comfort zone. You never knew what Ink would come up with next, and it was always fun to follow him into trouble. Also, Ink always knew all the gossip, and didn’t mind sharing it with Dream at length.

His other best friend, Blue, was sitting in the back seat next to all their gear. Blue was small, maybe 4’ tall at the most. He was always full of energy, although sometimes it could only be described as nervous energy. His cheerful attitude permeated everything around him and reminded Dream of his own little goal: to spread positive energy wherever he went. With Blue around to help, that was easy. Dream just wished he could bring his friend more happiness of his own. Given the state of Blue’s home life, it was no surprise that he was always wanting to hang out with the two other “Star Sanses”. Dream tried to think of every excuse he could to take him out and about with them.

Dream wasn’t quite sure what had prompted him to schedule this little trip. Yes, Blue was getting close to his breaking point. Yes, Ink was getting restless in between commissions. And, yes, Dream was yearning to see something other than the city for once. But all those things happened on a regular basis, and this was not how he usually dealt with them. 

Maybe it was those dreams (heh) he’d been having. Every night for weeks now Dream had dreamt of being on a horse, riding through the woods like he had when he was a child. His friends had been around him, and Dream was filled with this sense of peace and rightness. He couldn’t help but want to fulfill it. 

And then Reaper had mentioned to Dream about the wrangler group he and his family went out with. Every word had had Dream more and more intrigued. He honestly couldn’t think of a single thing they were doing that he wouldn’t have done… at least when it came to their horses. He had no idea that the world of wrangling was so cutthroat. And then Reaper had dropped the bombshell like it was nothing. Nightmare was… okay? He had friends? More than that, he had horses and his own business? That was an absolute shock, so much so that Reaper had needed to splash Dream with a cup of cold water in order to break him out of it. Maybe he took a little too much pride in doing so, but Dream could hardly blame him. Every little bit of happiness he could spread made Dream feel that much better. Even if it was at his own expense.

Now Dream was driving through the countryside on his way to find out if what Reaper had said was true. Maybe it was a different skeleton named Nightmare and covered in living goop? That seemed unlikely, but you never knew what would happen in a world like this. 


	2. They Meet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The two groups meet and prepare to set out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! I've been dealing with some crippling back pain and only just found a medicine that helps with it without making me loopy. I'm going to get imaging sometime in the next two weeks to see what the hell is wrong with me this time. Then I see my new doctor again!
> 
> In the meantime, enjoy this long-awaited chapter 2!

Dream made that final turn into the driveway to the ranch and sighed. It looked absolutely perfect. There were fields of hay blowing in the wind and huge tracts of grass dotted with horses. All of the horses looked happy, not too thin and not too fat. There were old ones, too, who clearly were getting to enjoy their retirement. Dream had to resist the urge to go and pet them. They wouldn’t take kindly to a stranger trying to touch them, even if he did have treats.

A little bit further up the road Dream came to the main house. It was huge, practically a castle, with so many windows and doors that Dream lost count. In front of the house were three giant trailers on the back of three king cab trucks. Dream could see horse noses poking out of the windows, and it brought a smile to his face. He couldn’t wait to cuddle one. He loved the smell of horses more than anything. There was something about that smell that soothed him like nothing else could.

Standing in front of the trailers in a loose line were the wranglers, but Dream had eyes for only one. His brother was standing there, tentacles waving in the wind, with his hands in his pockets and a slight frown on his face. He looked good, even after all these years. Something inside of Dream relaxed when he saw his twin. He was okay.

Dream parked the car and jumped out of the Jeep, tucking the keys into his jean’s pocket. Blue and Ink jumped out after him, Blue in old jeans, Ink in a pair that was brand new. They lined up with Dream as he stared at his brother; Nightmare and his gang of wranglers facing off against Dream and the Star Sanses. It was one of Nightmare’s group, a black-boned skeleton that was somehow even more glitchy than Geno, who broke the silence.

“Well, I don’t know about you lot, but I’d like to get out on the trail before it gets dark. Why don’t you go get your bags and we’ll load them up?”

Dream blinked at him. His brain was lagging a little bit behind. When he got it, he smiled and ran for the back of the car. “Oh! Before we head out, I have a little treat for all of you. I have some for the horses, too, but they can wait until we hit camp.”

All eyes were on him as Dream pulled out the box full of treats. It was huge! He grabbed a container out of it and held it out to the wranglers. “I know you’ll like these, brother, but I hope everyone else does, too!”

Nightmare visibly hesitated in front of Dream. Then, from one second to the next, he went from being empty handed to holding a little homemade candy bar in his hands. He stared at it for nearly a minute before he said, in a voice that had haunted Dream for years, “Is this… one of our Mom’s apple pie candy bars?”

Dream nodded. His voice hardly shook at all when he said, “Yep! I brought enough for everybody to have one every day if they want. She always did say to take care of the people who help you, so I do! Um… is that okay with you?”

Everyone pounced on the package of treats as Nightmare nodded slowly as he stared at the treat in his hand. Then he turned his attention to the treat box. “That’s more than enough for two weeks, Dream. Unless you brought extra?”

Dream waved his hand dismissively. “The rest of the box is full of treats for the horses. I made your salty oat treat for them. I’ve never met a horse that didn’t love them. Or a mule, for that matter. Don’t worry, I wrapped them in wax paper so the horses can’t smell them in the packs.”

* * *

Dream was too wrapped up in watching his twin to register the expressions of the rest of his gang, but they all had grins that were growing by the second. And here they’d been worried that this monster had forgotten everything he ever knew about horses. Two minds in particular were thinking something else. Cross and Killer saw the way Nightmare was standing and reacting, saw the way Dream was focusing on him, and came to the obvious conclusion; i.e., that they needed to set the twins up on a date as soon as possible. Dream was definitely worth keeping.

Killer looked around to take in the reactions of the rest of their crew, since it was obvious that Nightmare was too busy to do it. Those reactions had him raising an eyebrow. Not all of them; Dust, Horror, and Sugar all seemed to be confused more than anything else. It was the other two that had him wondering.

Cross seemed more than a little pissed at the stranger with the paint vials. The feeling didn’t seem to be mutual. The other (and what kind of a monster carried around paint vials like bullets?) had interesting eye lights. At first, while he was looking at the horses in the trailer, they were a blue horseshoe and a yellow star. Then he caught sight of Cross. His eye lights changed into a question mark and an orange square. Then, between one blink and the next, they changed into a red exclamation point and a green four-leaf clover. Killer had no idea what those symbols meant. He hoped he could learn soon.

Error’s reaction was even more interesting. He seemed embarrassed when he looked at the short skeleton dressed all in blue. The other just seemed happy to see him. He was waving at him like he’d just seen a long-lost friend. Error quickly looked away and pretended not to see him. Very interesting. 

It was Killer this time who broke the silence with his silver tongue. He bowed to the Star Sanses and gestured to their car. “Well, cuties, these treats are perfect to warm our bellies. Why don’t you set your bags into their own piles? We’ll be happy to get this packing business started.”

Dream and Nightmare blinked at him, even as Nightmare absentmindedly stuck his treat in his mouth. His face was never the best for showing his positive emotions, but it radiated pleasure today. Killer could tell that he’d missed those treats. He also knew that he would refuse to admit, even to himself, that he’d missed his brother, but it was obvious that he had. He hadn’t missed the creature he had thought Dream had turned into, but this Dream, the real one, didn’t seem like that at all. Looks could be deceiving, though, as Killer well knew. He’d reserve judgement for later.

The Star Sanses didn’t have much luggage, just five boxes. There was the treat box, one suitcase each for the blue-clad one and Dream, and two suitcases for the paint guy. That’s okay. They’d allowed for two each, given that it was a two week trip and these were city slickers. What they hadn’t allowed for was the contents of the suitcases. Three of the suitcases were filled with clothes. The last suitcase, one of the paint guy’s, was filled with jugs of paint.

Killer could feel the energy radiating off of Nightmare, and it was anything but positive. Most of the rest of the crew was almost laughing out loud. Paint guy couldn’t have picked a worse thing to pack. 

“What. Is. This?” Nightmare asked, barely able to keep the fury out of his voice. 

Paint guy didn’t seem to notice it. He laughed and waved a hand. “Oh, that’s just my paint. I need it to feel emotions since I don’t have a soul. Weird, right? I’m pretty sure that’ll be enough for two weeks plus a few days extra in case of a big event.”

Everyone was stunned for a moment. At least, everyone from Nightmare’s gang. Dream actually burst out laughing, and his laugh was sweet and clear. Killer wouldn’t mind hearing it again. And again. And again. He definitely wanted to keep Dream around, not only for Nightmare’s sake, but also for his own selfish pleasure. He was already plotting his next move, and at least the next half dozen after that. Killer was a planner. At least, he was when he wasn’t actually fighting someone. Then he just let his instincts carry him through.

Dream recovered from his burst of laughter and wiped his eyes. “Ink, we’ve talked about you just saying that. You’re supposed to be more gentle, remember? Gradual introductions are key.”

Ink’s eyelights changed into a blue question mark and a yellow hourglass. “Um… No? I don’t remember that. Did I write it down on my scarf? Should I have checked my scarf before I said that?”

Dream nodded. “It’s near the first quarter mark, Ink. In the green pen.”

The scarf was removed quickly, then folded and scanned. Killer noticed the hundreds of scribbles in different colors along its length. Were all of those notes? He wasn’t quite sure he believed that there could be a monster who was that forgetful, but the scarf said differently. Killer was pretty sure that a notebook would have been a better choice.

“Oh! Yeah, sorry, my bad. My memory is horrible. Souls do more than give you emotions, they give you a big memory, too,” Ink explained. 

He opened his mouth to say something else, but Error cut him off. Error looked ticked off, which didn’t surprise Killer. Error’s default state was angry. It was part of his charm. “How the hell are you alive without a soul? That’s what gives us monsters our lives, not to mention our magic and our personalities. Without a working soul you die! Everybody knows that!”

Ink shrugged in an extremely unhelpful manner. “No one’s really sure. Lots of doctors have tried to figure it out. They haven’t figured out how to give me a soul, either. Right, Blue?”

The third of their guests jumped. He seemed nervous, and Killer instantly picked up on it. He couldn’t figure out why, though. They hadn’t even done anything threatening yet, not that they would. They had money to earn, after all. Killer had even put his trusty knife into its sheath and hidden it under his jacket. No one who didn’t know him would be able to tell that he was wearing it. Dust’s and Cross’s magic knives were both not summoned. Horror’s butcher knife was hidden in his packs. So why was Blue nervous? Did they really look that threatening?

“Y-yeah, Ink. None of them have been able to figure it out, and you won’t let them run any more tests,” Blue accused, “despite the fact that there are several promising new ones that might show them how to help you.”

Cross, unexpectedly, laughed. Killer’s skull whipped around to face him, but his other mate was already waving him away. Killer’s eye sockets narrowed. Oh, did he want to fuck the answers to all this mystery out of him. Well, that could happen later. Right now they really should be getting packed and then out on the trail.

“Okay!” Killer said brightly, “Since it’s pretty clear that you need these paints to show us your wonderful personality, I’ll pack them for you while the rest of our gang gets everything else squared away.”

Everyone turned to blink at him. Then they got to work quietly… except for Ink. He seemed to be unable to stop himself from talking. Killer could see the way that Nightmare’s tentacles were waving, and he decided then and there that he would put the chatterbox towards one end of the line so Nightmare had to deal with him as little as possible. 

* * *

Time passed. Nightmare surveyed the lineup of their little caravan one last time before they started out on the trail. Everyone was mounted on their horses or mules. Nightmare was on Razz, already ready to ride sweep.

Riding at the head of their troop was Killer on Slim. Nightmare trusted them to lead them safely along any trail in the mountains. 

Second in line was Ink. Ink was quickly becoming Nightmare’s worst nightmare (heh). He never stopped talking, he had those stupid paints, he had never even seen a horse before, his jeans were stiff; every little thing about him quickly got on his nerves. At least Rustle seemed to be able to stand him. That horse would put up with anything or anyone.

Error followed after, mounted on Shadow. There was no way Nightmare was putting anyone else next to that chatterbox. Error would just have to suck it. 

Dream came next. He’d actually been the last to mount; not because he had forgotten how to ride. No, his mounting was too smooth for that. It was because Nightmare had almost literally had to pry him and Classy apart. Nightmare had forgotten how much Dream loved to just snuggle with the horses. He was addicted to the way they smelled.

Cross was next, on Honey. Killer had insisted that he be in front of Blue. Cross was gentle company, and Killer had told Nightmare in a moment of privacy about Blue’s skittishness. Nightmare hadn’t argued with him. He trusted his mates implicitly.

Next was Blue on Berry. Nightmare had learned that he was once an accomplished horseman, but some kind of an accident had led to Blue getting bucked off. He needed Berry’s steadiness to build his confidence back up. Nightmare could respect that. Besides, he was the shortest out of the entire group.

Ghost carried Dust next. He always rode in front of the pack mules, so that was where he was. If Blue could handle Ink’s nonstop talking he could handle it from Dust.

Crown, Regal, Cherry, and Boss followed one after the other. They were good mules (except for Cherry, who was a good horse). They wouldn’t cause any fuss or problems. They knew better by now than to do that. Besides, they had ridden this route before. Bar something unexpected it was highly unlikely that these solid pieces of horseflesh would so much as bat an eye. 

The final two mules were Pumpkin, carrying Blood, and Shanks, carrying Sugar. Those lovebirds always rode tail. Nightmare was never sure how the guests would react if they found out about the two brothers’... arrangement. He hoped it never came up.

That was everyone, and every cinch strap and tie was perfectly in place. Nightmare couldn’t really get away with keeping them here any longer, so he didn’t. “Alright, everyone. Remember what I said - yes, that means you, Ink - and try not to get yourself or anyone else hurt. Understood? Good. Then it’s time to move out.”

Slowly, one horse at a time, they headed out on the path that would lead them into the mountains… and their future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me on:
> 
> Pillowfort - https://www.pillowfort.social/Yastaghr  
> Tumblr - https://yastaghr.tumblr.com  
> Twitter - https://twitter.com/yastaghr * Most active


	3. First Ride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first ride and the first camp are achieved. The fire brings out something new in everyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm grieving with my cat, who died suddenly a few weeks ago. If you can and you want to, could you wish him well wherever he is now, however your religious beliefs will let you do so? Thanks.

The first ride of the trip was always the most problematic. This trip was no exception. Nightmare had sighed when Ink had lost his stirrups the first time. The next three times had been annoying. After that it had ceased to be annoying and started to become funny. Rustle wasn’t going to let him fall, and it wasn’t like Nightmare himself hadn’t ridden without stirrups before. Just so long as he kept his heels down Nightmare would be happy.

But that was just the start of the problems. Dream was turning out to be just as annoying as he knew he’d be, but for an entirely different problem. That problem had a name. His name was Cross. Cross, apparently, hadn’t taken enough heed of all the stories Nightmare had shared with his gang about Dream. Cross was too thirsty for that. He was taking full advantage of his position behind Dream to watch his ass. Yes, he said it was because he wanted to be sure of the other’s seat, but Nightmare knew better. One, he knew that Dream’s seat was impeccable, and two, he could see the purple blush on Cross’ cheeks. He was just lucky that Dream didn’t notice. He would only pay for ogling a client, not for trying to go behind Killer’s and Nightmare’s backs.

The next problem was Dust. It was always like this; as soon as he thought Nightmare had gone out of his hearing range he started talking to his brother. Nightmare sighed. Blue didn’t seem too disturbed, but that couldn’t be said of his pony. Berry hadn’t ridden near Dust recently, so the gelding must have forgotten about his chattering. His ears were constantly swiveled back, but Blue seemed to be handling him well. His seat was good and his hands were soft even as he maintained control over the horse. That made Nightmare feel better about letting him stay there.

The last problem, and one that Nightmare had been predicting, was Ink’s paints. Their sloshing around was scaring the pack train. Blood and Sugar eventually had the whole line stop so they could redistribute the load. That seemed to calm down the mules, but Cherry was being his usual spooky self. That was okay. They were used to Cherry’s spookiness.

Nightmare was impressed when they made the first stopping place in reasonable time. He had allowed for much more malarky than actually occurred. Unfortunately it looked like they needed that time. The camp was in shambles. If Nightmare had to guess he would have said that a herd of elk had bedded down there recently. The trees were still leaking sap, the grass was laid flat by the weight of those sleeping bodies, and the tents that were the sleeping areas were torn to the ground. Nightmare sighed. It would take at least an hour to fix everything. 

His crew immediately ground tied their horses and got to work. Dust and Blood saw to the grass, fluffing it up so that the horses could actually eat. Cross set to gathering firewood and wiping down the trees. Sugar looked after the pack train. Error used his strings to fix the tents, and Killer helped Ink to dismount. Dream and Blue had gotten down and were looking around.

“How can we help, brother?” Dream said instantly, Blue right beside him. Nightmare blinked his one eye at him. He hadn’t expected them to want to help.

“Why don’t you… help Sugar unload the food for tonight?” He eventually said. He still didn’t trust his brother, not after what he had done, but he knew that unpacking the mules would be very hard to mess up. 

Dream and Blue nodded, ground tied their horses, and walked calmly over to Sugar. Good. They at least knew better than to spook the horses.

Killer’s soft voice interrupted his focus on his brother. “Somebody’s got a crush, huh?”

Nightmare spun to face him. Killer had his signature grin on his face, and his soul was beating at a speed Nightmare recognized as happy. Nightmare relaxed slightly and said, “I didn’t realise Cross was being so obvious. He’s been ogling Dream’s ass this entire time.”

Killer chuckled. Nightmare didn’t see what was so funny. “Yeah, Cross. The big guy’s always had a soft spot for people who dote on the horses.”

Nightmare tilted his head. He didn’t particularly remember Cross being like that in the past, but Killer was miles away more observant than he was. That was why Nightmare trusted him to be his second in command. He was a general; Killer was his chief of intelligence. Neither of them could operate without the other. And they both needed Cross to keep the peace between them and guard against the dangers of the road.

“Well, he’d better be prepared to meet the consequences of his actions. Dream is a client, and he is definitely not a part of our relationship. What would you say would be an appropriate punishment? 15 lashes?”

Killer grinned. If there was ever a monster who was the definition of a sadist, it was Killer. “Oh, at least. I’d say we edge him a few times, too.”

Nightmare shook his head. He had the final say in this, and he thought that that was going a bit too far. “It’s only been a few hours, Killer. If he continues this behaviour tomorrow, then we can think about edging him. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir!” Killer said, saluting. Then he wandered off to begin unsaddling the horses for the night and getting everything ready for supper. 

* * *

Blue was fascinated by the fire. He could vaguely hear the rest of the Star Sanses and Nightmare’s Gang moving around, setting up things for the night, cooking food on the other side of the fire, and, in Ink’s case, chattering away. None of that really mattered to him right now, though. His whole attention was consumed by the fire. 

It had been so long since he had seen an untamed fire like this. When he was younger he saw them every weekend while his Dad was still alright and well. Then, after his accident, Blue had seen them every night as he struggled to raise a child all on his own. Then Stretch had grown up enough to say he hated the smell of smoke and that was that. Blue hadn’t realized how much he missed it until now. 

Blue’s hypnotized state ended when one of Nightmare’s Gang sat next to him and passed him a cup. Blue looked into it. It seemed to have… ketchup?

“Here, drink it. I’ve never met a Sans who didn’t like a condiment, and you’re pretty cute, so enjoy,” The stranger said. His voice was deeper than Blue would have pictured, deeper and hoarser. Blue would have predicted the hoarseness after all of the talking this monster had done today. 

Blue honestly wasn’t sure who the monster behind him had been talking to, but he couldn’t judge. One of his best friends still hadn’t stopped talking. Ink would have been hoarse had he been a normal monster. He wasn’t. It wasn’t that he was crazy. Ink was the kind of anomaly that rules had to be built around. So was the dark boned skeleton Blue recognized from a few years ago. Now if only Blue knew his n-

“What’s your name, anyway? I’m Sans, obviously, but most people call me Dust. Not my brother, though. He still calls me Sans,” Dust said with a grin, his mismatched eye lights shining bright. The concentric rings of red and purple were almost as fascinating as the fire.

“I’m Blue,” he said, startled, “Technically it’s Dr. Blue, but I don’t actually practice at the moment, so most people call me Blue. My brother calls me Sans, though, too.”

The wide smile that shone from Dust’s skull was dazzling. Blue’s eye lights widened as he took it in. Wow, Dust was cute. A blush spread across Blue’s maxilla, along with a hesitant smile. Maybe he could do something about that? Stretch wouldn’t be happy, but he already wasn’t happy about this little trip. What would be the harm in having a little fun?

“Well, Dr. Blue, I’d love to have you examine me sometime,” Dust said, waggling his brow bones. 

Oh, that was flirting! Blue knew what to do with flirting. He batted his eyelids back at Dust and leaned in. “Oh, I’d be happy to. I’m sure you have some pieces of your anatomy that can fascinate me for hours. I might even have one or two suggestions that would make your life more… pleasurable! Mweh heh heh heh!”

* * *

Ink overheard his friend laughing and grinned from ear to ear. “Yay, Blue! I’m glad he’s feeling good enough to laugh. He’s always so stuffy! That was one of the reasons we took this trip; to make Blue relax a bit! He-”

“Stars, do you ever shut up?” Error growled. He was securing the last string to the ground with some kind of spike. Ink didn’t know the names of any of this stuff, and he barely knew Error’s name. As far as he was aware he had never left the city before. Then again, his memory was absolutely horrible. Not as bad as Blue’s dad’s, but still objectively horrible. Good thing he wasn’t objective!

“Nope!” Ink said, popping the p. “I don’t like it when things are quiet at all! It’s super scary and makes me feel isolated and alone in a place where no one can rescue me. The same thing happens if I see too much of the color white! It’s kind of a trigger, so I fill up the silence with as much noise as I can and make lots of art! I’m constantly repainting the walls of my apartment, and I always have some music playing at home.”

Error was giving Ink the funniest look. It was almost… sympathetic? Curiosity sparked in Ink’s mind. Why would anyone relate to an experience like that? Ink was about to ask when Error spoke up. “That’s stupid. You’ve got actual friends, idiot. They’re not going to abandon you.”

Ink nodded. “I know that, but that’s not how triggers work. Triggers are totally illogical. They’re weird little psychological phenomena that we don’t fully understand. A trigger can be anything from the smell of lilacs, to the taste of chemo medicine, to the feeling of tulle between your toes, to the sight of a specific crack on the ceiling of your house, to-”

“The sound of door locks? Those ones with a full bar you lock into place with a key?” Error asked suddenly. 

Ink took in the sight of him. Error looked haunted. Interesting. Ink’s curiosity made him a promise: he would find out everything about Error and his past that he could to satisfy his own curiosity. If he was going to do that, however, he needed to win Error’s trust. 

“Yeah! That’s definitely something that could be a trigger,” Ink said, then he went on, “and it’s not like you’d have to know why it was a trigger, either. Sometimes we just have something that’s triggering to us without any explanation. Dream is that way about moles. The little furry animal, I mean. Totally sends him into a panic attack whenever they show up in a nature documentary we’re watching. Blue now likes to pre-screen any movies we’re going to see, just in case. Actually, he pre-screens them for a lot of things. Useless sex scenes, for one.”

Error snorted. Ink blinked at him, feeling an unfamiliar paint combination roll over him. He couldn’t have put a name to it, but there were bits of yellow, pink, and green in there. Yellow was happiness of all sorts, pink was affection or love, and green was the need for something. It could be the need for information, or food, or a plan, or… anything, really.

“Don’t,” Error snorted, “Don’t tell me you’re one of those sex purists who thinks you should only have sex after marraige. That’s so stupid.”

Ink laughed his own unique laugh that couldn’t decide between being a chuckle and a giggle. “No, I just think that those stupid sex scenes take away from the body of the story. Sometimes they’re good, but mostly they’re just put in for horny fans. They don’t even make any sense. People just don’t hop into bed with perfect strangers at the drop of the hat. At least, not any sane people. Not that sanity’s earned its good ratings, mind you.”

“Well that’s true,” Error agreed with distaste. “Sex shouldn’t be some kind of spectacle for anyone to see. I know I wouldn’t want anyone but my lover or lovers to see me like that. I might be the most handsome skeleton in existence, but that doesn’t mean I want to show myself off.”

It was Ink’s turn to snort. “You? Handsome? Your bones are black, Error. Don’t you know that the darker your bones are the less handsome of a skeleton you are?”

Error’s grin was absolutely crazy, and Ink couldn’t help but mirror it. It looked like so much fun! “That’s what they want you to think! After all, so many people are cursed with white bones. They had to come up with some way to boost everyone’s egos. Telling them that white bones are best is a good PR spin! I bet even you believe it about your own bones!”

Ink blinked at him, then slipped out of his overshirt and bared his bones. They were covered in patterns, almost random, that had more black to them than white. “It’s not like my bones are all white, though. I guess that means that, by your definition, I’m ugly, too! Oh well.”

Error’s larger eye light was now almost as wide as his socket. The other one, the grey one, had wandered off. Ink wondered if he could even see out of that eye or if he just had lazy eye. Either way it was disconcerting. “Well… you’re not that ugly. You’re less ugly than all those bleached-boned idiots in the movies. After all, you have some black on there. And the contrast looks… kind of nice, if a bit blurry. D’ya mind taking a step back?”

“Why?” Ink asked, tilting his head curiously.

“It’s none of your business why, chatterbox!” Error screeched, “Just do it!”

Ink sighed. He’d been doing so well with winning Error over, but nothing worth doing was worth doing too fast. He stepped back a few paces. “Alright, Error. Is this good?”

Error was too busy studying Ink’s patterns to answer. Ink studied his expression, committing it to memory. It was so… fascinating… the way he was staring at Ink. The play of light on the black bone of his skull was so enchanting, and the lines of his mouth were inviting in a way Ink couldn’t place. He longed to sketch it. Maybe later, after dinner, although the fire wouldn’t be the ideal light source. Needs must, though!

* * *

Killer grinned as everyone took up their positions around the fire. The small blue skeleton and Dust were already seated, flirting with each other like there was no tomorrow. The artist and Error were arguing, but it involved more words out of Error than Killer had heard the entire time he’d been working for them. Blood and Sugar were sitting as far apart as they could stand, cooking the food and shooting each other longing glances. Cross was sitting at attention next to Dream and shooting him the most adoring looks. Dream seemed just about as oblivious as Nightmare could be. He was staring into space, zoning out. That left Killer to work on Nightmare. Perfect.

“Hey, Boss~” Killer purred as he slid in next to Nightmare, taking one of his tentacles into his hands and slowly massaging it. It was tense as hell. It was pretty obvious who was causing their leader so much stress. His eye light was fixed on Dream like it had been nailed in place.

“Yes, Killer?” Nightmare said distractedly, his eye light not leaving Dream, “What is it?”

Killer brought the tentacle up to his teeth, kissing it. “The tension in your aura is palpable, Boss. You need to relax a bit. Let me lavish you with all the attention you so richly deserve.”

Nightmare turned to face him, his eyebrow raised and his one eye light showing Killer his amusement. “Laying it on a little thick tonight, aren’t you? What are you trying to do, impress me? You know you already do. Or are you trying to distract me from Cross’ misbehaviour? I can see him over there. He’s acting like a lovestruck teenager.”

So are you, Killer thought to himself, a lovestruck teenager that’s fallen in love with his biggest rival. Out loud he said, “If you want to say that about Cross you have to say that about all of them. Dust is flirting with that small blue one like it’s his favorite hobby, Blood and Sugar are doing their Romeo and Juliet act, and Error is arguing so much with that artist that I wouldn’t be surprised if his voice wasn’t hoarse tomorrow.”

“The small one is called Blue and the artist’s name is Ink,” Nightmare said absently.

Killer blinked at him, then smiled his most winning smile - the one he wore when he was trying not to get caught at something sketchy. “You know, it would probably be a good idea if we introduced everyone before matching people up for the night. Why don’t I get everyone’s attention and you can tell people who they’ll be sleeping with?”

Nightmare tore his eye light off of Dream just long enough to narrow it at Killer. Then he sighed and shrugged. “Fine, then. No knives, though. I know you like to show off, but please, save it for another time.”

Killer saluted with the half-ironic, half-serious form that drove Nightmare crazy. “Got it, Boss!” 

Then he turned to the center of the fire everyone was gathered around, raised his hands to his mouth, and hollered, “Heylalo, skellies! Listen up, the boss has something to say!”

Eight heads turned to face him with expressions that varied from annoyance to curiosity to mildly dissociative. Killer frowned slightly. Blood he could understand, but why would Dream be dissociating? Had something happened to him since he and Nightmare parted ways? Or was it just the general absentmindedness of a normal monster? Killer vowed to find out.

Nightmare’s grunt interrupted his thoughts. Killer turned to face his handsome datemate and listened closely to the orders of the night. “Now that I have your attention, I’m going to introduce you all and tell you who you’ll be sleeping with. Remember that these arrangements might change as the trip goes on, so if you can’t handle sleeping with someone please let me know. Blood, Sugar,” He pointed to the two of them in turn, “you’ll be sleeping together in the red tent. Ink, Blue,” Again he pointed to each of them in turn, “You’ll be sleeping in the blue tent. Killer, Dream,” He signaled who each of them was, “you have the yellow tent. Error, Dust, please take the black tent,” He gestured at both of them. “Finally, Cross and myself will take the green tent. My name is Nightmare. Now, does anyone have any questions?”

The boss studied each face in turn, as did Killer. They would compare notes later. 

Cross was blushing and averting his eyes from Nightmare’s face. He knew he was in trouble for today, but that didn’t stop him from looking forward to being punished. It never had before. 

Blue was looking at Dust with longing and a flushed face. The expression was mutual. Interesting. Maybe they should be paired up in a tent tomorrow night. Dust could use a bit of a chance to unwind. 

Ink had clearly lost interest in the conversation. He was looking around at the clearing with his hand twitching in the air. Long strokes, short curves, and forceful jabs would have painted a picture if Ink had only been holding a paintbrush. Killer would have bet any amount of money that he was already planning a drawing or two of their surroundings. Artists were like that.

Blood was eyeing the food with hunger, as usual. After what he had been through it was hardly a surprise. Sugar was beaming at his brother. Only his practiced eye told Killer that he was ready for their night’s more… intimate activities. Hopefully this time they wouldn’t get caught.

Dream was eyeing Killer with something like anxiety, except moreso. It almost looked like fear. It did look exactly like the expression Nightmare had turned on him the first time they’d been asked to share a tent. Huh.

Finally, there was Error. Error, as usual, was grumbling to himself. Killer knew exactly what he was upset about. He hated having to share a tent with anyone. He was always on edge, worried that they were going to bump into him in the night. He knew better by now, though, than to complain. Nightmare had no sympathy for his disgust at the touch of others anymore. No one had ever touched him at night. That wasn’t going to change.

Nightmare nodded when he was satisfied that no one was going to complain. “Good. Now, Blood, please serve out tonight’s food to everyone. It’s time to eat.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me on:
> 
> Pillowfort - https://www.pillowfort.social/Yastaghr  
> Tumblr - https://yastaghr.tumblr.com  
> Twitter - https://twitter.com/yastaghr * Most active


	4. Hiatus

Hi! If you’re reading this, then I’ve had to go on hiatus. My mental and physical health are really bad and frequently act up. My meds don’t always work right, either. So! I’m going to be taking a break from publishing until something changes. I don’t know when that will be, but I will finish this story eventually, so please be patient!


	5. Dissociation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things develop a little further with the main four, Dream is not as healthy as he seems, and Blood needs help sometimes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to post this so late in the day! I slept all day because of my fever.

Error had never needed much sleep. Scratch that, he’d never needed any. He usually spent his nights on watch… sometimes even with Nightmare’s blessing. Giving him a spot in a tent was more or less an excuse for Nightmare to bring an extra tent along. You never knew when an argument would mean somebody needed to “sleep on the couch”, so to speak.

Because he was up all night, Error was aware when Ink woke up and got out of his tent. It was ridiculously early in the morning. It was so early in the morning that the sun wasn’t even thinking about getting up. What the hell was the artist doing now?

He shadowed Ink, his years as an enforcer blending perfectly with his years as a wrangler to give him the skill to shadow someone silently in the woods. He tried not to think about those years before he had met Nightmare. He’d hated them, but he’d loved them, too. He’d hated how he’d been treated, everyone hating him and throwing him out of places just for trying to do his job, but he’d loved getting to destroy things and attack people who got too close.

As he followed Ink through the camp, he noticed the way the other moved. Ink almost seemed to glide, as if the mere presence of grass, branches, and horse dung didn’t matter to him. Error ghosted over and saw something he wasn’t expecting: a complete lack of footprints, even in the mist-wet mud. 

_What the fuck?_ Error thought to himself, _I swear he just stepped there!_

That was when he noticed the black ink at the artist’s feet. It flowed like a cloud, silent and untraceable after it had passed. Error frowned. _Cheater._ Why did he get to do that when all Error could do was mess with the code that played his glitched “Judgement Hall” walk sequence to shut it up. There was a reason he preferred riding to walking.

Finally, Ink came to a stop near the horses. It was a little too far for him to bother them, which Error was thankful for. When he had first joined the gang, he’d made the mistake of standing too close to the horses in the wrong spot. He’d gotten kicked for his trouble. He’d never needed a doctor (not that he would trust one after… well, maybe the little one. Blue? He was a doctor. After what he’d said when Error had kidnapped him, maybe he could trust him.) but he had needed lecturing. He was glad he didn’t have to deliver it to Ink. They really would have gotten in trouble if he said what Nightmare said to him to a client.

Ink… sat down? Crouched? Whatever it was looked uncomfortable as hell. He had some kind of notebook in his hand, and a pencil. Then… he just… drew?

Error watched him draw for at least an hour. The horses didn’t seem to mind it, and neither did he. He was caught off guard when Ink turned around and winked at him. His open eye light was a green heart. “You never know when you’ll need to draw something new. Maybe sometime I could draw you~”

When Error woke up out of his crash at the _audacity_ of Ink suggesting that he might draw perfection as if it were a horse, he was face to goop with Nightmare, who didn’t look amused. “Time to mount up, Error. Your punishment for missing breakfast is to wait to eat until lunch.”

=====

The ride on this, the second day of the trip, was going well. Ink had only lost his stirrups once so far, and Nightmare had told him to stop bothering with them. Dream had snorted so loud at that, that even Sugar, riding tail at the end of the line, could hear him. He couldn’t see Nightmare’s blush, but he knew it was there. 

Sugar had always suspected that Nightmare had a crush on his brother. He was too deeply betrayed by Dream’s actions during the Apple Incident for the relationship to be the usual mixed one between brothers, and it was long past the time when he should have forgiven his brother if they had a good but familial brotherly relationship. No, Nightmare had to have felt something more, something deeper, for Dream’s actions to have bit so deeply for so long. Add that to his reaction when he saw Dream again, all these years later, and you had a recipe for love. Who better to recognize it than another brother lover? No one, that’s who.

Well, there were technically two brother lovers on this trip today, but Blood was having a bad time with his dissociation. His last doctor had declared that he was “cured” of his PTSD after a few weeks without night terrors or flashbacks. Nightmare had made sure that the emphasis was on “last” when he found out why Blood didn’t have any more pills to take after their usual monthly trip into town. 

Unfortunately, that meant that there were no doctors within 50 miles who could treat him, since he’d run through every doctor and therapist in range. Nightmare had threatened the hospital with losing their land lease if they didn’t hire somebody new and decent. They hadn’t found anyone yet. Sugar hoped they would soon. His brother needed his medicine.

In the meantime, Sugar would just go on being the amazing mate he was and try to keep his brother in the here and now whenever he started to drift away from his body.

“DO YOU RECOGNIZE THIS PLACE, BROTHER?” 

Sugar watched as his brother looked around them. They were about two hours into the ride. They’d reached one of their usual stopping points, but they’d reached it much sooner than Nightmare had anticipated, so they were going to continue on to the next one before their rest. It was a beautiful spot. There was a large meadow, maybe the size of one of the basketball courts Sugar used to play on. The meadow was full of wildflowers at this time of year. There were dozens of different types, if not hundreds. There was a human wilderness botanist who was one of their regular customers just so he could see this meadow. It was also the place where Blood and Sugar had both proposed to each other at the same time.

“uh… no, sugs. should i?” Blood asked.

Sugar frowned. Oh, it was one of those ones, then. They were the worst. “YES, BUT IT’S NOT URGENT. I CAN TELL YOU ABOUT IT BACK AT CAMP. IN THE MEANTIME, WHY DON’T YOU TELL ME ABOUT ALL OF THE WILDFLOWERS! DO YOU SEE ANY GREEN ONES?”

Blood looked around, searching. Eventually he said, “i don’t see any green ones, bro, but the leaves and stuff are green. there’s some really pretty yellow ones. they look like the bouquets mom used to make in springtime. what did she call them again? um… daffodils, that was it. she used to say we were both going to be stuck carrying them at our weddings, heh. we should carry them, you know, to prove her right when we get ma- hey, isn’t this where you and i proposed to each other last year?”

“GOOD JOB, BROTHER!” Sugar cheered, his voice coasting over “loud” into the zone of “excited but not going to scare the horses”, a distinction he’d learned to keep a long, long time ago (although not in a galaxy far, far away).

Blood reached up and started to tug at his head wound. Sugar was distressed to see more black goo leaking out of it. “heh. how long did it take me this time?”

“ONLY ABOUT TWO MINUTES! THAT’S FOUR MINUTES FASTER THAN LAST TIME!”

Blood smiled weakly, checked the line of horses ahead of them with paranoia, and then blew Sugar the fastest kiss he’d ever managed. “all thanks to you, sweet cheeks. you’re the most awesome datemate a monster could ask for.”

Sugar’s grin could have lit up a crypt. “THANK YOU!”

======

Cross wasn’t aware that something was wrong with Dream until he hit his skull on the branch. Up until that point he’d thought that Dream was just… well, not very good at taking compliments. 

He’d seen the way Killer watched Dream with hunger in his eyes, and he’d seen Nightmare’s tentacles forming little hearts when he didn’t think anyone was watching. Since both of his datemates were interested in the positive little skeleton, he figured it was okay to flirt with him. Especially given how adorable he was.

The flirting hadn’t really succeeded. Dream had brushed off every compliment to his skills, although it was a bit awkward. Cross had complimented his seat when Classy made a completely unnecessary jump over a twig. Dream had said that Nightmare had taught him how to do it, that his brother was always the faster learner. Cross had complimented his handling of a creek crossing and Dream had blinked, then said he hadn’t noticed it. 

Then Cross had complimented him on his outfit of the day, going as far as to say it was pretty as hell. Dream was wearing a blue western shirt with a yellow floral pattern on it on top of his jeans. It really fit him well, and Cross couldn’t help but blush. That is, until he saw Dream flinch.

Cross frowned. Why would Dream flinch like that? It was a harmless compliment. Hell, it barely even counted as flirting. So why would Dream flinch as if he was shot? The shirt had to be associated with a bad memory. That was what usually made Cross flinch, like when little Goth had brought his new locket on their trip two years ago. That had hurt.

Cross shook his thoughts about that out of his head when he saw Dream ride straight into the branch as if he hadn’t seen it. It was a thick branch, easily 4 inches in diameter. Anyone with a bad seat would have been knocked to the ground. As it was Dream just… fell back a bit. His posture wasn’t bad, but it reminded Cross of the time that Dust had been kicked by the only donkey they’d ever owned, Fell. Fell was… no longer around. Dust’d gotten a pretty bad concussion, and Cross had volunteered to ride with him to the hospital. Dust had been half stunned the entire time they’d ridden back. The fact that Dream looked like that scared him. Cross signaled to Nightmare that they needed to halt the line because of Dream.

Nightmare passed the signal along to Killer, who called out, cheerfully, “Okay, everyone! It looks like we’ve run into another little problem! Time for a rest!”

Meanwhile, Nightmare had dismounted next to Dream. Cross could see the anger in his eyes, so he quickly explained, “He hit his head on a branch back there, Boss. Must have been pretty hard, because he’s acting off.”

Dream didn’t defend himself. He just slowly slumped forward, like he didn’t have the energy to sit up anymore. Nightmare’s tentacles caught him with the surprising gentleness that always made Cross feel loved, even though he knew it was just his datemate being careful. Nightmare carried Dream over to a clearing. Cross didn’t see what happened next because he was taking charge of both Classy, Dream’s mare, and Razz, Nightmare’s gelding. Razz… well, he put up with Honey, Cross’ gelding. Barely. That made handling both of them at the same time hard.

The next thing he knew, another set of reigns was being handed to him. Blue got down smoothly and walked over to the mess behind him. Cross spared a quick look. Dream was laid out on the ground, staring up at the sky and mumbling responses to Nightmare’s gruff questions. Then Blue arrived, and his voice carried. “Is he dissociating again? Or is it something more?”

Nightmare glared at Blue, but his eyes were glassy with shock. Cross knew what it was that caused that. He’d never mentioned his brother dissociating before, and he knew how bad it could be from Blood. He was probably scared stiff.

Cross, his voice just loud enough to carry without scaring the horses, explained, “He hit his skull on a thick branch, but I think he was dissociating before that. He seemed really out of it.”

Blue nodded, understanding the situation, and turned to Dream. Cross saw the brightest green glow he’d ever seen from any healer, including the ones at the hospital his- Nope, not going to think about it. The glow outlined the tiny monster. Then he heard rustling, and Dream sat up, smiling and standing as if nothing had happened. Hmm. Cross turned to look at Sugar, and they shared a look. They needed to get Blue to see to Blood as soon as possible.

=====

When they finally reached the safety of the next sleeping site, Nightmare sighed. He felt… conflicted. On the one hand, he was glad his brother knew suffering. After everything he’d done (and not done) to Nightmare when they were kids, Dream deserved that karma. On the other… he was surprised at how… protective he still felt about Dream. He had forgotten how naive Dream could be. He hoped… no, he wouldn’t. He’d spent years mad at Dream. He wasn’t going to stop now.

Still, he was a client, and it would be bad if they had to turn back now. Blue- no, Dr. Blue had fixed the obvious problem, but Nightmare still would prefer it if Dream were watched that night. That left him in a bit of a dilemma. He’d wanted to put Dust and Dr. Blue into a tent together tonight, but he needed to put Dr. Blue with Dream. Hmm.

“Alright, everyone!” Nightmare called out as they settled around the fire. “Sleeping arrangements are going to change tonight. Killer, Cross, you’re with me,” Cross gulped and Nightmare smiled. If he’d thought he’d gotten out easily last night he had no idea what he was in for tonight. “Ink, I’m putting you - yes, you. I’m putting you with Dust. Error, you’ve got a tent to yourself tonight. Dr. Blue, please keep watch over Dream tonight. Finally, Blood, Sugar, you boys share the last tent. Everyone understand?”

The skeletons in question all nodded. Error looked particularly pleased. Nightmare knew he would be. He hated sharing a tent with anyone.

“Good,” Nightmare said, nodding to Blood, “Now, why don’t you hand out the food?”

=====

It wasn’t that Dream _intended_ to break out of observation. It was more… well, if he’d actually been _present_ when Nightmare told Blue he needed to be watched, he would have. But he’d been dissociating again. It wasn’t his fault, and it wasn’t Nighty’s, either! It was just… that… compliment, really.

Dream had never liked compliments when they were directed at him. They made him feel uncomfortable, like people weren’t really seeing him, just whatever they were complimenting. His teachers had said he needed to get used to it, so he’d tried to. He’d been doing well… up until the Tea Incident, that is. After that, he just… stopped trying. If that was what happened when people didn’t see him as him, he wasn’t going to give them a foothold. If he just ignored them, they’d go away, right? Or they’d turn out like Ink or Blue, but they were different. 

Ink was only attracted to aesthetics and sources of curiosity. As in, he thought everything was pretty, but in a “I want to paint it” way. He’d made that clear right at the start. The people he wanted to fuck were the people who challenged or confused him. Once Dream had shared his backstory that first time, Ink was no longer attracted. That made Dream feel safe.

Blue had complimented him when they first met, too. But even Dream could see that he was scared, not attracted. The fact that he had apologized later, when Stretch wasn’t around judging him, and explained his own backstory, well… That made Dream feel safe, too.

So when Cross had complimented his shirt all of a sudden, it had made Dream have a flashback. He wasn’t sure whether he was lucky or unlucky in that his flashbacks made him dissociate. It wasn’t really something he could control, and this was far from the first time he had been hurt because of it, but at least he hadn’t been forced into a ward. He was irrationally terrified of the ones in the city. He didn’t understand how Ink could go into them willingly. 

It wasn’t Cross’ fault he’d reacted that way either, though. Cross didn’t know. Hell, _Nightmare_ didn’t know. He probably was trying to make friends with Dream, just like Ink and Blue had done, and now he probably thought Dream was mad at him or, worse, broken.

That was why Dream had left the tent with Blue. It hadn’t been to escape observation. It was so he could find Cross and apologize to him for… well, Dream wasn’t quite sure. He just needed to.

Unfortunately, what he needed to do came into direct conflict with what was actually real when he reached the side of his brother’s tent. From there, he could hear what was going on inside, and it sounded… weird. There were groans and slaps and muttered whimpers. Dream found himself leaning against the side of the tent to try and be able to hear better.

“So, Cross, do you feel like apologizing for flirting with my brother yet?” His twin's sinuous voice snaked into his ear.

Wait, flirting? With him? Cross had been flirting? Dream shuddered, and yet… it didn’t scare him. Mostly because Cross hadn’t been rude or gross about it, but also because he was kinda- No. No, he wasn’t allowed to think that. It wasn’t safe. It wasn’t safe.

Dream had just about reached that point in his thinking process when he heard the voice behind him, silvery and just as sweet as he had dreamed. “Oh, hello there, little light. What brings you out of your tent so late, hmm? Just taking a walk to cool your head, or were you looking for something? More importantly, did you hear something you liked~?”

Dream turned around and blushed. Oh, Killer looked… good. He was sweaty, but his clothes were clean. He was glowing around all his joints, and Dream could see a peak of his magic formed underneath them. It was then that he felt his own magic yearning to form. 

That threw a bucket of cold water over him. Oh, no no no no no! He couldn’t be… he couldn’t- New topic! “I’m sorry for flirting with Cross! I didn’t know he was taken or that he was in a closed relationship, and I didn’t realize I was flirting with him, but that’s not a good excuse, and I’m sorry! I don’t want my brother to be mad at me. I don’t want any of you to be mad at me! Please forgive me!”

Killer had raised his hands and one brow bone when the words spilled out of Dream. “Hey, don’t worry about it, little light. He’s not in trouble, really. Nightmare’s just reminding him that he’s supposed to ask our permission before he flirts with anyone. Our relationship isn’t closed, but it’s not wide open, either. We’re a kitchen table poly. That means that everyone in the relationship should at least get along with everyone else enough to share a meal. You should give us a chance. We want to get to know you, little light. Whether it’s just as a friend or something more is up to you. Right now we just want to get a chance to flirt with such a bright little thing. You okay with that?”

Dream gulped. “Um… maybe? I, um… need to think about it.”

Killer winked at him. “Take your time. The only one of us in any rush is Cross, and me and Night will… educate him. Now, let me walk you back to your tent. You really should be getting some sleep.”

=====

“So, that’s who it was. He looked better than he did earlier, Boss. A hell of a lot more present. I think he came to apologize. He seems to think he was flirting, too, although not intentionally. You know, like you did when you first met me? And then I explained that “flirting without knowing it” is just incel code for “being attractive and existing”? Someone sure did a number on him, Boss. He actually thought you were going to be mad at him for flirting with one of your datemates without permission.”

Nightmare was frowning, and Killer could tell that he was pissed at whoever had hurt his twin, but even as he fought with himself over that Killer still wasn’t able to slip that last line past him.

“Why would I ever give Dream my permission to flirt with one of my datemates?”

Killer knew he should tread carefully… but fuck if he knew how. Besides, that always made Nightmare suspicious as hell. Better to be honest and deal with the fallout later than make him mad by being careful right now. “C’mon, Boss, you don’t have to hide it from me. You’ve got a crush on him. Cross clearly has a crush on him. So do I. Why don’t we give him a shot, hmm? At the very least it will give him some practice. I don’t think anyone’s ever shown him how to flirt… or what that should really mean.”

Nightmare stared at him, his tentacles whipping behind him in a way Killer couldn’t quite place. Then, after a long pause, he said, “... Fine, but no kissing until I say so. Not with me, not with you, and _definitely_ not with Cross.”

Killer grinned. That went better than he’d expected. “Of course, Boss. That’s how a good relationship works.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me on:
> 
> Tumblr - https://yastaghr.tumblr.com  
> Twitter - https://twitter.com/yastaghr * Most active


	6. Horror's Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Horror brothers' past and present is laid bare for all to see. Blue reveals something, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is going to be a gap before the next update because:  
> a) I'm having surgery tomorrow  
> b) I haven't written anything else yet  
> c) I'm dealing with sudden major pain spikes that are debilitating  
> d) I'M HAVING SURGERY TOMORROW!!!

Dream was wandering around the camp again, although this time it was with Blue's blessing. Ever since the Tea Incident, Dream had... had trouble eating breakfast. Ink had indulged him when he found out, but Blue had helped him find a hack. If he worked up an appetite by exercising a bit he could usually manage to eat something small, which really was healthier for him. Since they were around company that might get worried or angry if he didn't eat he had been taking walks every morning before breakfast.

Usually he went to go check on the horses... alright, he went to go cuddle with them. Could you blame him? Horse noses were some of the softest, warmest, best smelling things on the planet! Who wouldn't want to cuddle with them?

Today, though, Blue had asked him not to leave the main camp. It wasn't that he didn't trust him not to get lost! That was what they were always both worrying about with Ink. No, it was that Blue wanted to make sure someone else could find him if he started to dissociate again. Yesterday had been bad according to Blue. The fact that Dream didn't remember it backed him up. He was probably going to be better today, but... well, it was better to be safe than sorry.

The other reason Dream was up so early was his, well, dreams. He'd had another bad one, a true night terror that made him remember his past mistakes so vividly they still hurt. Since he'd been dissociating it only made sense that he would have one. He couldn't get it out of his head.

Then he heard a cry he had only ever heard come out of his own throat and all thoughts of his own problems fled. It sounded like someone was having a night terror! He had to help! He ran to the source of the cry. It was the red tent, the one Blood and Sugar slept in. Had something attacked them? Dream looked around desperately for a weapon. He saw a big stick, grabbed it, and burst into the tent... just in time to see Sugar kiss Blood. On the teeth. With tongue. And... yeah, it was still going on. Not a platonic kiss then.

Dream quickly backed out of their tent, thinking hard. He knew that was... supposed to be bad, right? Loving your brother? But... they looked so happy. He should ask his brother whether they were dating. He knew Blue would want to give them a gift, probably some sort of... actually, Dream wasn't sure what Blue would want to give. Medical supplies, maybe? That hole in Blood's head looked... not good. Dream couldn't help but wonder how it happened. He'd only ever seen anything like it when Nightmare had tried to k-... during the Apple Incident. Blue had been so good so far, not asking about it. Dream was sure it was because he was afraid of getting in trouble for asking. Dream should ask for him!... After he cuddled with the horses.

=====

When Dream finally deigned to join them for breakfast, Nightmare and his gang were already starting on their second helpings. Nightmare was last in line. He always made sure his boys were taken care of before he took care of himself. It was important to him that it worked that way.

Nightmare didn't really want to talk with his brother. He didn't want to think about what he had agreed to last night. He didn't want to hear Dream's excuses. He didn't want to know Dream's opinion. When Dream spoke, though, it wasn't about any of that, although it was just as much something he didn't want to talk about... at least not with Dream. "I saw Sugar kiss Blood this morning. Are they dating? I think he was having a night terror. Why? Was it because of the wound on his head?"

The whole camp went silent at Dream's loud questions. Nightmare wanted to turn around and hit him. Then the idea that that thought had even crossed his mind horrified him. Dream was his brother! Even at his lowest he wouldn't have hurt him deliberately!

Instead, he turned around slowly, taking in the emotional state of Dream, Blue, and Ink. Dream seemed determined, sad, and hopeful at the same time. Hmm. Blue was staring at Blood's wound like he'd just noticed it. His hands were twitching, probably wanting to help. Finally, Ink... he was looking blank. His eye lights were black with shock. Then they filled with a purple heart and a yellow box. There wasn't any judgement there, not in any of them. Interesting.

At the fire, Blood coughed. Everyone turned to face him. He was blushing like crazy, and his Determination was shining through. "you can tell 'em, boss. i think they'll be good, and shug says that blue might help."

Now all eyes were on Nightmare. He sighed. "As you wish," he said. Then he began the Horror brothers' tale, "Blood and Sugar used to work for another wrangling company, one that lost its license and decided to operate in our territory illegally. They were lead by an Undyne who was... less than a stellar leader. On their last trip she forgot to pack rations. To hide her own mistake, she attacked Blood, caved in his skull, and claimed it was his fault and that she had dealt him justice. She convinced the rest of their crew to leave him and his horse for dead at an abandoned cabin on the trail. Sugar refused to leave his brother, so he stayed behind, too. Winter came early that year, long before they had been able to gather enough supplies to survive. They ended up having to eat their own horses. They were still almost starved to death when my gang and I came along. We saved them. Needless to say that crew of wranglers is... no longer around."

Silence once again filled the camp, only broken by the grunt of Pumpkin, in the distance, trying to squeeze himself between Ghost and a tree. He had a problem with being able to tell how wide a space he needed to exist in. Sometimes it was hilarious where he tried to fit, but right now no one was watching. They were all watching Nightmare and Dream.

Dream had shrunk back into himself at the story. Too late Nightmare remembered that his brother had never dealt well with abuse or gore in the stories they'd read. He was, for a fleeting second, worried that Dream wouldn't be able to handle it. Then Dream shook himself out of it and put a pained smile on his face. He didn't say anything, he just turned to Blue, clearly waiting for instructions on what to do next. Hmm. Was there a reason he turned to Blue other than that he was a doctor? Nightmare wanted to find out.

Blue looked insanely worried about Blood, but he was also keeping an eye on Dream. Hmm. That was interesting. Blue nodded to his friend and stood up. "Dream, go get my medical kit, would you please? Ink, can you manage to carry a bucket of water? I want to examine Blood right away."

"You don't have to-" Blood started to say, but was interrupted by the most tasteless outburst Nightmare had ever heard.

"I'll be sure to get a _hole_ lot!" Ink sang. The whole camp went dead silent.

Before Nightmare could rip into the artist for daring to mock his friend, Cross jumped down the other's throat. "How fucking dare you, Ink," He said. Nightmare was thinking the same thing. That wound caused Horror constant pain, it gave him night terrors and dissociative episodes, it made him scratch like crazy, and- "-it leaks blood and black goo. Fucking apologize or else!"

The whole gang froze when they realized that Cross had just _threatened_ a client. Cross was always impulsive, but this was a whole new magnitude of scary.

"Sorry," Ink said, his chastised voice small, "i didn't mean to be rude."

Blue gasped and jumped up. "Did you just say it leaks black goo? Was it always black, or did it used to be pus- um, greenish white, yellow, or pale orange?"

All of Nightmare's gang froze when they heard that. He knew he could still vividly remember each of those colors coming out of Blood's skull and staining the bandages he'd worn at first. It had been terrifying. They'd been so sure that they were going to lose blood, and they were all sure that if they did they would lose Sugar, too. They hadn't, but... "Yes, Dr. Blue. It was all of those colors at one time or another," Nightmare answered firmly.

Blue looked both extremely worried and extremely happy, a very interesting combination. "He has memory issues, right? I know how to fix that! My dad had a similar skull injury that I designed the solution to as my thesis! It's not that hard to do; it just takes a lot of careful spellwork. May I?"

.If it had been anyone on Nightmare's team saying that they would have already been moving over to help and the question would have been perfunctory. Yet somehow, the fact that Blue was standing nervously and darting his eye lights between Blood, Sugar, and Nightmare was didn't seem to be because he didn't care. It was more like he did care so much that he was trying, even though he thought it would end badly for him. Hmm. Nightmare knew that feeling. He looked at Dream. His brother had that same look of empathetic pain that he'd had when Nightmare had tried to get him glasses so he could read, too.

"PLEASE, DR. BLUE, IF YOU THINK YOU CAN HELP HIM TRY!" Sugar pleaded, distracting Nightmare from his chain of thought.

Once he was given permission Blue ran over to Blood's side, his magic swirling to the ready around him. Everyone gasped. There was so much there, and he didn't even seem to be trying! The magic was powerful and controlled, too. That was more impressive than a mere degree. People could work hard and get a degree eventually, but that kind of power was born, not grown.

The moment Blue reached Blood's side he directed the magic to gather in front of him. He ran his finger through it like he was drawing in the sand, nudging the dense magic into the proper shape. The sigils and symbols he created formed patterns even Nightmare couldn't understand, and he was the most accomplished magic user of their group (apart from Error, but he used glitches and code, not magic. No one could understand it when he tried to describe what he did, and he couldn't understand them when they tried to explain their magic, so everyone just went with it). Compared to Blue, though, Nightmare was small fry. He was glad they didn't have to fight him. They'd lose.

Then the magic began to work. It sparkled, bright and full of hope, pervading Blood' wound. It filled him with so much light that both sockets glowed brighter than when he was angry. Then, slowly, it dissolved leaving no visible changes in its wake.

Nightmare was feeling betrayed. He'd gotten his hopes up for this? He started stalking towards Blue, his tentacles sharpening behind him. Then he heard three words he never would have imagined hearing from Blood in... well, ever. "It... doesn't hurt!" Nightmare froze in mid-step and listened for more. "It doesn't hurt! I... it doesn't even make me dizzy! I don't feel like I'm going to move into a migraine any second, either!"

The goopy skeleton turned around slowly. Blood still looked the same as he always did, but his skull... it was starting to glow with a slightly red light, like a little shield or umbrella that floated above the hole.

"That barrier will get stronger and more solid over the next few days!" Blue's voice called out from behind him. Nightmare turned again. The tiny skeleton was grabbing a piece of his skull above and around his right socket and... removing it?!! "I got the idea because of this! Getting anything, even just water, inside your cranial cavity can restart the infection. My prosthetic is expensive and takes a long time to make, but this shield will do the same thing for free! I can't make it look real, though. It'll look like magic no matter what you do. I'm sorry about that. I can give you the name of my prosthetist, but you'll need to have your skull completely sterile and stable. It's already stable, but my spell only kills the infection, it doesn't sterilize the wound. I can do that for you before you go in if you want to go that direction! I want you to be as happy as possible!"

Everyone stared at the little force of nature. Specifically, they stared at the giant hole in his skull. "THAT'S EVEN BIGGER THAN MY BROTHER'S!" Sugar exclaimed.

Blue flinched and quickly replaced the little piece of plastic. "It's f-f-fine! It was an accident, completely and totally! It definitely didn't happen because-"

"Aaaand you're over apologizing again, Blue!" Dream said cheerfully, sweat rolling down his bones. For a moment the intense desire to lick it off bombarded Nightmare. He quickly brushed it away by thinking of Blue. That kind of wound was horrible. Had Blue been about to say that someone did this to him? Nightmare swore to find out, no matter how much his brother interfered. Dust was closer than family to him. He wanted to do good by him, and that meant keeping tabs on his lovers.

Nightmare must have missed some of the rest of that conversation, because the next thing he knew Dust was holding the small doctor and looking at nightmare hopefully. "Hey, Boss? Can we go through the trail with the overlook? You know, the one with the pretty sand and the caves?"

He considered it. Dust so rarely made requests that he was inclined to accept it. On the other hand, that route would add nearly a day to their schedule. On the first tentacle, Dream used to love pictures of sand dunes, so he would enjoy it. The second tentacle held the counter argument that newbie riders like Ink were not prepared for the technical aspect of the approach. On the third tentacle, slightly stained with his goo, was the desire to give something to Dr. Blue as recompense for helping Blood. The last tentacle said, "Do it." He listened to the last tentacle.

Turning to his brother, Nightmare asked gruffly, "Would you mind an extra day on the trail? I'll charge you half price. We'd need it to see the overlook."

Somewhere in the food line near him Killer hollered, "It's worth it! It's worth triple!" Nightmare noted that. Killer must be jealous of Cross getting all the attention in their tent. That was usually the only time he acted up like that.

Dream was still sweating at the beginning of the conversation, clearly worried and shocked. Towards the end, though, a slow, sneaky smile spread across his face. "Well, then, I'll just have to pay triple, won't I? Don't give me that look, brother. I have more than enough money now than I know what to do with. Let me spend it on brightening the lives of my friends."

Nightmare stared at him, anger welling up and quickly getting plugged back up at the idea of Dream with money. Of course he would have a lot. The sale of their farm probably earned him most of it. Bastard. Then Nightmare locked it down and smiled smugly at his brother. "Oh, I'm sure you do~ Maybe my boyfriends and I can show you a few other ways to spend it~"

Dream blushed, trembling slightly and clearly trying to stop. Hmm. Killer had been right. Nightmare smiled. He was looking forward to showing his brother what a real relationship meant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me on:
> 
> Tumblr - https://yastaghr.tumblr.com  
> Twitter - https://twitter.com/yastaghr * Most active


	7. The Overlook

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dust learns more about Blue and decides to fall in love with him. Nightmare and Dream share a moment over the beauty of Nightmare's lands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another chapter of this!
> 
> I'm still dealing with medical stuff, but I'm planning to apply for graduate school starting in 2022!

Dust was in love. Not only was Blue the most gorgeous monster he had ever laid eyes on, and not only could he flirt with Dust at the perfect pace, and not only was he smart, skilled, and powerful, but he wasn't perfect. Dust hated perfect people, and Japes, his ghost of a brother that no one else could see, agreed. Perfect people were highly suspicious.

He'd suspected that Blue might be a perfect person until yesterday. Blue was so pretty, so kind, so genuine. Then, when Blue had taken off that prosthetic... Well, that was the moment that Dust had really fallen in love. Japes thought he was an idiot. Dust wondered what Blue's brother thought. Was he a ghost like Japes or something else? Maybe he was dead? Japes wasn't dead, no way. Dust pushed back the memory of his brother's skull being crushed under the hooves of those stampeding horses. There was a reason he was so terrified of lightning. He just didn't want to acknowledge it.

Now Dust was doing everything he could to woo Blue. On top of his sweet words and best flirting, Dust was being extremely attentive. He was bringing Blue the best food. He was helping him pack up his saddlebags in the morning. He was cupping his hands so that Blue could step in them to mount up. He would do anything for Blue.

Blue just seemed confused and maybe a little afraid. He was trying to hide his fear, but Dust was a good judge of emotions. He could tell when someone was trying to hide something.

Because of that fear Dust was going much slower than he wanted to. He wanted to pull Blue into his tent and ravish him, but that would probably only drive the tiny skeleton away. No, Dust needed to be careful... Or so he thought. It turned out that what he needed to do was wait for Blue to make the first move.

It was at the overlook that Blue acted. Dust honestly didn't get what was so cool about those dunes down there. It was just a bunch of sand near some mountains. What was the big deal? Blue seemed to like it, though. He stared out at the big pile of sand with sparkling eyes. Then he moved.

Dust almost reacted badly to Blue's quick charge until he realized what was going on. He chuckled as Blue wrapped his arms around Dust and strained to reach his face.

"DUST! I mean, Dust!" Blue oddly corrected his own enthusiastic tone, "Stop laughing and lean down, please, so I can kiss you!"

"I dunno," Dust said, smiling mischievously, "Isn't it against the rules for a doctor to kiss their patient?"

Blue pouted and snorted at the same time. "Oh, it is. It really is, but you aren't my patient yet, are you? I think... Yes, I think I'd like to call you my lover first. I want to thank you for convincing Nightmare to take us to this beautiful place! Are you up for being thanked?"

Dust smiled even wider, an anticipatory element entering his expression. "Oh, I'm up for it. The question is, are you?"

#

#

Later, as he sat in the mouth of the cave and stared out at the rest of the gang enjoying the overlook, Dust asked the question that Blue had been dreading. "So, what does your brother think about you and me doing this?"

Blue couldn't help it. He started to hyperventilate as he thought about how his brother was going to react to this. Stretch was going to be furious. He knew Blue didn't want to be in a relationship with him; that he was only doing it because no one else would give Stretch a chance. Besides, Blue didn't deserve to have what he wanted. Not after what he had done before. That didn't seem to matter to Stretch, though. He treated Blue so nicely... Well, up until Blue messed up.

Blue, unfortunately, messed up a lot. He made so many mistakes, and Stretch tried to be nice about it, but he had to be strict with Blue. If he wasn't, how would Blue ever get better?

So he yelled at Blue and, when he didn't think the yelling was working, he hit Blue. He didn't hit him hard! Blue was just really, really fragile. Stretch forgot that a lot. It wasn't his fault, though! His soul had been injured when he was a kid and it had never healed properly. He had a giant schism going down the middle, a crack that almost cut his soul in two. It made his memory awful and his personality unpredictable.

Blue was glad that he wasn't worse, honestly. He'd experienced the worst of humanity when he'd had to sell himself as a child. It had been years since then, but he would never forget everything he had gone through. Sometimes it still felt real. He wished Stretch thought that they could afford for Blue to go to therapy. He was struggling. He needed help.

Blue hadn't realized that he was talking aloud until he felt the hug. Warm arms wrapped around him, arms encased in a blue-grey hoodie that smelled safe and felt good against his bones. Blue snuggled into it, cuddling and accepting the comfort in a way he usually didn't allow himself, but, since he was coming out of a flashback and panic attack, he allowed himself to let go a little.

Then he heard the words that were being said and his little bubble of safety changed. It, for the first time since he'd met Dream and Ink, expanded.

"... It's okay, Blue. I get it. My brother yells at me a lot, too, and after the accident his personality changed, but he'd never hit me. There's nothing you could have done that deserved that. There's _definitely_ nothing you could have done that means you deserve that permanently. I wish I could help you get away from all that. You deserve a lot better."

Dust's voice was soothing to Blue. It coated his panic in a layer of calm and understanding that he hadn't known he needed. Before he knew it Blue had broken down crying. "I... I want to get away from it. I really do. I don't know how, though. He doesn't let me carry any money or work for myself. He only let me go on this trip because I lied and said that Dream was sick and needed a nurse. He thinks I'm still in the city."

Dust frowned. Blue could feel the movement of his skull against his own. "I don't really know either, but I can do some research. Why don't you give me your phone number? I can give you mine, and we can figure something out together."

Blue stared at him, his eye lights wide open in shock. "You really mean it? You'd help me get out?"

"Of course," Dust said, pulling out his phone, "I always keep my promises. I hate making them. I promise that I'll get you out of your situation and into something safer. I promise."

#

Nightmare ignored the sounds of canoodling coming from the cave and looked out over the dunes. He loved this overlook, although he could never bring himself to admit it. It was, to him, the most beautiful place in his territory.

"This place is beautiful, Nightmare," Dream said next to him, startling him. He glanced at his brother and saw nothing but awe for the landscape. "Can you tell me more about it?"

Reluctantly, Nightmare recounted this place's history. He quietly said, "Eons ago there was a sea where the mountains and plains now stood. It was the biggest sea that this world has ever known, covering more than 80% of it. The mountains didn't exist then. Not far from here are some fossil deposits that come from the bottom of that ancient sea. They were lifted when the great forces of geologic change, volcanism and tectonic movement, fought. Their battle produced these mountains and the valley below them."

"Due to the way the mountains cup the valley, surrounding it and looming over it like an overbearing teacher, a lake formed in the valley. It was a huge lake, almost 6,000 square miles. Not only did the normal runoff from the annual rain and snow fill it, but there were almost certainly flash floods. Down in the valley a few scientists who have gone on trips with us have found large rocks and buried pockets of mountain soil that they say prove that this was true."

"The lake's long life was ended when it's sheer size broke through a barrier left by the volcanos long ago. That would have been over there to the south. The sheer amount of water that drained from it likely formed a small canyon not far from here. It isn't in our lands. I believe it is unowned. There are several different rafting companies that operate through there."

"After the large lake collapsed a few smaller lakes still survived. Soil and sand from the mountains rolled down and filled them. Later, when the world warmed again, the lakes dried up. They left behind the rolling dunes you see before you. Some of their water still survives in wetlands on the other side of the dunes."

"The majority of the time the dunes are blown up towards us here in the mountains, but sometimes, during the powerful storms that sweep through the valley from behind us, the sand is blow back into the valley. Because of these two forces the dunes are constantly growing taller. There are streams that also turn the dunes like a giant, slow lazy susan. You can't see them right now, but in a few weeks the creeks will peek above the ground. There's a huge festival of sand castles and dune climbing that happens then. I wish yo could feel the cold water trickling from below the ground briefly brush across your bones. There is nothing like it in the world."

At that point, Nightmare seemed to come back to himself. He coughed and said, "Of course, I only know the basics. If you wish to learn more I can connect you with..."

That was when Nightmare looked up and saw his brother's face. Dream was sparkling with interest and excitement, looking between him and the valley as though he didn't know which was cooler. "Night! That's amazing! I'd love to hear more about this place. What else can you tell me about your lands? I read what you have on your website, but I'd much rather hear about it from you. Please?"

For a moment all Nightmare wanted to do was kiss him. His brother looked beautiful. It was the strongest whim he'd felt in a while, and he almost gave into it. Then he shook his head to wipe it clean. Not yet.

He could flirt with his brother, though, right? "Of course you can, Dream, but I promise you it isn't nearly as interesting as you are."

Dream froze and Nightmare was treated to his fear for the first time. It was an almost physical force, and it made him angry. Who had dared to hurt his brother? Could Nightmare find out? If he did he promised himself that he'd find a way to punish them.

"I... What do you mean, brother?" Dream asked, his voice shaking.

"I mean that you are more than just a surface level monster, Dream," Nightmare explained carefully. "You love to cuddle with the horses and yet used to be afraid of sheep. You think geology is interesting, but you hated physics in school. You look absolutely stunning when you're happy, and yet you're really afraid when people tell you that. You are interesting, Dream, and I wouldn't have it any other way."

Dream blushed and looked down. It was clear he was fighting with himself. Eventually he looked up, still scared but pushing bravely through it, and said, "Thank you, Night. You are, too."

Nightmare was sure that that was a huge step for Dream and swore, in that moment, that he would help his brother get past this even if it killed him. It probably wouldn't unless he really did go after whoever had done this to Dream. Then he might get hurt, but he doubted it. His gang was more than capable of handling a little fight.

#

Not far away, in the background, Killer and Cross were grinning as wide as they could. Killer couldn't help it. When Dust had suggested this place he'd known it was going to go well. Nightmare could talk about this place for hours, and, by the looks of it, Dream was just as fascinated. The two of them were looking so happy and animated.

Then Nightmare said something and Killer sucked in his breath. Dream looked downright terrified, like a baby bird looking over the edge of the nest, totally scared to make that first jump. Killer was ready to jump to his rescue, and he was sure that Cross was in the same state.

Slowly, though, Nightmare talked him down; Dream forced his fear into submission and bravely responded to what Killer was sure was a flirt. Killer's grin returned. When he turned to check on Cross, he was grinning, too.

"They're actually bonding!" Cross said in a happy stage whisper.

Nightmare jerked but didn't look away from Dream. Killer's grin widened into a smirk. "They are indeed, Crisscross. They are indeed."

"Do you think we can get them together with us for real, Killer? They're adorable, both of them, and I want to... Well, I want them both. Can we pull it off?" Cross hedged hopefully.

Killer rolled his non-existant eye lights. "Of course we can. We got Nightmare to date someone already. We can do it again."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me on:
> 
> Twitter: https://twitter.com/yastaghr   
> Tumblr: https://yastaghr.tumblr.com   
> YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCFLombUzsxpc9Al6ITHPpLw   
> Twitch: https://www.twitch.tv/yastaghr

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on:
> 
> Pillowfort - https://www.pillowfort.social/Yastaghr  
> Tumblr - https://yastaghr.tumblr.com  
> Twitter - https://twitter.com/yastaghr


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